The ship was designed to carry up to 120 first class passengers, 60 second class and 600 steerage or third class passengers and completed forty voyages across the Atlantic or down to India. When being transferred to the Mediterranean the ship was refitted with larger engines and modifications to the accommodation reduced the first class to 45, left it with no second class and space enough in the third class for 900 bunks.

The ship left Trieste in Italy with stops in Naples, Genoa and Gibraltar before it would have headed across the Atlantic. It carried 880 people, with 59 of that number being crew. There were normally 7 lifeboats on the ship that could carry 460 people, one of these lifeboats however was missing.

On approaching Gibraltar and heading for its usual anchorage the captain realized two Royal Navy battleships were occupying that space. In a later statement from the captain he stated that he was blinded by the lights from the Anson in the evening darkness. He attempted to steer his ship ahead of Anson’s bow, instead the vessel was holed by the Anson as they came together, the battleships hull being much the stronger tore hole measuring some 5 metres across below the waterline of the Utopia, the lower decks were quickly flooded.

Engine power was almost immediately lost and the order was given to use the lifeboats and abandon the crippled ship. As the lifeboats were being lowered the ship listed and crushed the lifeboats. Those that survived from the lifeboats clung to the side of the ship, many more were trapped inside. Within twenty minutes the ship had sunk with the masts of the ship still protruding above the water, many chose to cling to these until rescue came.

Other ships in the harbour immediately sent rescue teams. In the water was a mass of human beings and wreckage. Two rescuers from HMS Immortalite drowned when their boat hit rocks, by 11pm 562 were dead or missing including nearly half the ships crew.

When divers were sent down to examine the wreckage they found many bodies so closely packed together they had become wedged into a solid mass and it was difficult to separate them. The ships captain was arrested and later found guilty of grave errors of judgment in failing to determine the position of ships within the anchorage and then in attempting to turn his ship across the bows of HMS Anson.

The ships owners were ordered to light up the area around the wreck to alert other ships to the danger. The SS Primula hit the wreck in a later incident claiming they could see the danger but only when it was too late to avoid a collision. The ships owners were deemed not responsible for this and the Port of Gibraltar was deemed to be responsible. The wreck was raised from the shallow water in July 1892 and taken back to Scotland. The owners had planned to repair and reuse the ship, the repairs were never undertaken and the ship was left to rust along the River Clyde close to the shipyard that had built her. She was finally scrapped in 1900.

Witnesses told the Boston Globe there was a loud rumbling sound that shook the earth then, like a machine gun, rivets began shooting from the tank.  The wave of gooey sweetness broke the girders of the Boston Elevated Railway’s Atlantic Avenue structure and lifted a train completely off the track.  Numerous nearby buildings were knocked off their foundations and crumpled and several city blocks were flooded two to three feed in depth.
image via wikipedia- aftermath of molasses flood

According to the Globe, people were “picked up by a rush of air and hurled several feet.”  A truck was hurled into Boston Harbor.  Twenty-one people died–either crushed to death or drowned  and 150 more were injured.  Several horses, dogs and other animals fell victim, as well. 
                                                                                       image via wikipedia

Boston police, the Red Cross, Army and Navy personnel and cadets from the USS Nantucket, a training ship, came to the rescue.  It was difficult making way through the syrup taking four days before stopping the search for victims.  Many of the dead were so glazed over they were difficult to recognize. Two found on the fourth day were never identified.

The cause of the accident is not known.  It is thought the tank was poorly built and tested.  At one time it leaked so badly it was painted brown to diguise the fact.  Legend would have us believe the tank was overfilled in late 1918 so the owners could produce as much rum as possible before Prohibition began..

It took 87,000 man hours to clean up the streets and homes…the harbor area remained brown throughout the summer.  Residents brought a class-action lawsuit against the U.S. Industrial Alcohol Company which tried to claim the tank had been blown up by anarchists because some of the alcohol produced was to be used for munitions.  The court found the company responsible three years later and an out of court settlement was made for $650,000.00.  (About $10 million in today’s dollars).

The tank was not rebuild and the site is now used as a city Little League field.

According to PETA, “China supplies more than half of the finished fur garments imported for sale in the United States, so the bottom line is that because dog and cat fur is so often mislabeled, if you’re buying fur, there’s no way to tell whose skin you’re wearing.”

Anybody who buys ANY kind of fur is contributing to the global demand for fur. Unfortunatley even with the bans, the United States and Europe are still the largest consumers of fur in the world, and this makes China the largest fur export country in the world.

Voice your opinion to put a stop to this, there are many ways that you can help:

Write a letter to the Abassador of China to urge the country to stop this cruel practice.

His Excellency Zhou Wenzhong
Ambassador of the People’s Republic of China
Embassy of the People’s Republic of China
2300 Connecticut Ave. N.W.
Washington, DC 20008
202-328-2574
202-328-2582 (fax)

Visit FurIsDEAD, for more information, to sign an online petition, and to get more materials to become an activist.

Sign the petition at The Animal Rescue Site to put a stop to the import of dog and cat fur to Canada.

Go to HSUS (The Humane Society of the United States) to get more information on the fur trade.

If you drive along the coast road from the historic South Devon coastal town of Dartmouth, it will lead you through the village of Stoke Fleming, along a narrow and winding stretch of road with tantalising glimpses of Blackpool Sands and on towards the village of Strete. Beyond the village the road becomes straighter as it leads you towards the long stretch of shingle beach known as Slapton Sands. On the other side of the road is Slapton Ley a fresh water lagoon and nature reserve. There is little to remind the casual visitor of the tragedy that took place here almost a lifetime ago until they reach the village of Torcross where a surprising monument, a Sherman Tank stands close to the beach .

In 1943 the residents of Slapton and the surrounding area were forcibly evacuated by the British government. This caused a lot of sadness and resentment because some of the 3000 people had never left their villages before. What was to happen at this remote spot was a closely kept military secret. The area had been chosen for Exercise Tiger a full scale practice for the D Day landings. Slapton Sands was chosen because it was similar to Utah Beach, a shingle beach with a lake behind it. Utah Beach was the code name for one of the planned landing beaches in Normandy.

The exercise was to take place from 22nd to 30th April 1944, it involved 30,000 troops on board nine large tank landing ships. The first practice assaults on 27th April were uneventful, but tragedy struck on 28th April. A German E boat patrol spotted a convoy of 8 large tank landing ships in Lyme Bay, one boat was torpedoed and sank, a second caught fire and was abandoned and a third caught fire but managed to limp back to the coast. 638 military personnel died, 441 were from US army and 187 from US navy. Sadly some of the deaths from drowning were caused because the men were not used to being at sea and when they abandoned ship they did not put their lifebelts on correctly. When they jumped into the sea the weight of their backpacks flipped them onto their backs and forced their heads under water.

The Exercise went on and sadly loss of life continued. General Eisenhower who was the Supreme Allied Commander ordered that the men should experience real battle conditions. So when the remaining boats landed at Slapton Sands they were exposed to live shelling on the beach and 308 men died from friendly fire.

A lot was learned from the ill fated practice at Slapton Sands and changes were made that led to much more successful landings on D Day, with only about 200 fatalities at Utah Beach. However there was considerable official embarrassment about the blunders and everyone involved was sworn to secrecy. It is believed that the bodies were buried in mass graves in the surrounding fields.

Even after the war the graves of these men were not marked and there was no memorial. A local resident called Ken Small felt strongly that there should be a memorial to these men whose lives had been sacrificed in training for what proved to be the turning point of the war, but the UK and US military were unhelpful. He persisted and in 1970’s he was able to buy the rights to a submerged tank that he had located. With local support he was finally able to recover the tank in 1984 and it now stands as a memorial on a plinth provided by the local council. A plaque was erected to commemorate those who died, but there is still no memorial listing the names of the victims. Mr Small who died in 2004 was rather belatedly supported and honoured by the US military, but it took a determined man who refused to be ignored to give the men who perished in Exercise Tiger the recognition they deserved.

Image via Wikipedia

Captain Marinesko

Alexander Marinesko was actually born Alexandru Marinescu, to Rumanian parents who altered his name to make it appear more Russian. on 15 January, 1913, in the port city of Odessa. A temperamental and emotional young man, he suffered from nightmares, was easily bored, and sought solace in the bottle. He was from an early age beset by demons. But as was fitting for a man of Odessa a career at sea beckoned. Not in the Merchant Marine however, but in the Russian Navy. Little could he have known as a young man that he would grow into the most lethal and deadly submariner of all time.

He made steady progress through the ranks of the Russian Navy and was recognised as a talented officer though his career was often thwarted by a deep streak of irresponsibility. In 1939, he was posted to the Baltic Fleet and assigned command of the submarine M.96 then considered one of the best in the world. But he still wasn’t entirely trusted. The Authorities were aware of and distrusted his Rumanian background. So upon the outbreak of war with Germany in July, 1941, he was sent to serve in the Caspian Sea as a training officer. This bored him desperately and he was frequently drunk, and his lack of sobriety was to lead to his expulsion from the Communist Party.

At last, in the summer of 1942, he saw action.  His talent soon became apparent and he was brave to the point of recklessness. But he was also a braggart and a liar and often exaggerated his own exploits which brought him the enmity of many of his fellow officers. Even so, his success determined that he maintain command of his submarine, even if at one point he effectively deserted the service to live with a Swedish woman he had met at a drunken New Year’s Eve Party. His disregard for authority and total lack of discipline however, meant that he and his crew were considered expendable. So on 11 January, 1945, Captain Marinesko in command of submarine S.13 was dispatched to patrol the dangerous sea lanes off the Baltic peninsular. Here he remained patiently at his post for days on end but with little success. Frequently attacked by German torpedo boats and spotter planes he could not see the point of remaining there to no good purpose. Aware that the city of Memel had recently fallen and that the German army was now in full retreat and would be looking to evacuate its troops, in direct contravention of orders, he manoeuvred S.13 into a position he believed would be a likely point of interception.

On 12 January, the Red Army had broken through the German lines on the Eastern Front and the Wehrmacht had taken flight. By 26 January, Prussia had been effectively cut off from the rest of Germany and the only escape was by sea. In the port of Gotenhafen (Gdynia) more than 35,000 refugees and soldiers thronged the docks. In port were the Liners Hansa and Wilhelm Gustloff preparing to evacuate people as part of Operation Hannibal. So desparate were people to escape the clutches of the advancing Russian hordes that fist fights broke out to get aboard and order had to be restored by force.

The Wilhelm Gustloff was a luxury cruise ship constructed in 1937, as part of the Strength Through Joy programme to provide luxury holidays for workers. Though t was mostly used by Nazi Party dignitaries and their families. It was a sleek and beautiful vessel but had by now been stripped of all the trappings of grandeur. With a displacement of 25,000 tonnes and designed to carry 1800 passengers and crew, when she sailed out of Gotenhafen harbour at 12.30pm on 30 January, 1945, she was carrying more than 10,500 passengers, some 4,000 of whom were children.

It was a foul day, snow and rain was being whipped up by strong winds, the sea was rough, and the air cold. A short time after setting sail the Hansa and one of the two torpedo boats acting as escort were forced back to port with technical problems. The Wilhelm Gustloff was now virtually on her own with just one small torpedo boat  remaining to accompany her. On board were four experienced sea captains and a row now broke out as to the best way to proceed. Captain Wilhelm Zahn, Head of the U. Boat Division, suggested that they should douse the ships lights and plot a course hugging the coastline. The Gustloff’s Captain, Friedrich Petersen, instead decided to head for deep water where he expected to be met by a more powerful escort of Minesweepers. He would also keep the ships lights on to avoid the possibility of collison, something he evidently feared more in the poor visibility than he did the possibility of submarine attack.

Aboard the Gustloff an eerie atmosphere prevailed, every available space was taken, the aisles and passageways were jammed, and in some areas there was standing room only. People were being sick as the ship pitched and rolled in heavy seas, and mothers comforted their weeping children. An order had earlier been given that lifejackets should be kept on at all times but this just added to the general discomfort and many had been discarded. So as to maintain a level of calm the Captain had ordered that cheerful music be piped throughout the ship. At one point the music stopped for a speech from Adolf Hitler broadcast to celebrate the anniversary of his coming to power. Everyone stopped to listen, even the crew who had been busying themselves keeping the ship free from ice, some cursed, others took heart, but all were fearful of the hours to come.

Some time after 8.00pm on the night of the 30th, a crew member aboard the Russian submarine S.13  spotted a light far in the distance. He believed it to be the light from a nearby lighthouse but thought he should mention the sighting to the Captain anyway. Captain Marinesko, who was in his cabin completing that paperwork that always has to be done, was summoned to the conning tower. As he surveyed the scene the light started to become more distinct. Slowly but surely what was emerging from the mist was a ship, a huge ship, possibly an Ocean Liner, with its lights on! He could not believe his luck. Determined to make amends for his previous indiscretions he was determined to get this right. He stalked the Gustloff for hours, approaching it from the shoreline so as to get a better shot. This was a dangerous manoeuvre for he knew this area to be heavily mined and riddled with treacherous sandbanks. He skilfully managed to manoeuvre his submarine through depths sometimes as little as 30 metres and at one point only 9 fathoms. It was a courageous act on his part, but then no one had ever doubted his courage.

Approaching to within 1000 yards of his prey, nearing the witching hour of a bitterly cold night, he released three torpedoes with the words, ” For the Motherland and for the Soviet people.” On board the Gustloff, Captain Petersen was relaxing in his cabin confident that the most dangerous part of the journey had passed, when the first torpedo hit. Survivors described it as like being struck by a meteor. The whole ship shook. Petersen was stunned. Making his way to the bridge he was heard to mutter the words time and time again, “This is it, this is it.” There was little time to survey the damage. In order to keep the ship afloat he ordered that the watertight doors be closed trapping thousands of people, including many experienced sailors, below decks, sealing their doom. Another torpedo then hit the quarters of the Womens’ Naval Auxillary incinerating those inside with only 3 of the 374 women surviving. At this moment the electricity failed plunging the ship into darkness. As the third torpedo hits the engine room the Gustloff begins to list heavily to port. She is doomed. Panic now ensues and hundreds are trampled to death in the rush to get on deck. Gunshots are heard over the cries and screams of the terrified passengers as the crew try to retain some semblance of order, but to no avail. Many of the military personnel on board commit suicide. Crewmen struggle to release the lifeboats as they are frozen to the davits. It was normal procedure for these to be swung out in preparation for hasty release before sailing. But Petersen had not done this because he did not want to induce fear amongst the passengers. Now they could not be released in time. The ship was sinking fast. Lifejackets that had earlier been discarded were now being fought over. Those provided for the children were found to be too big and they merely tipped the children over in the water, and survivors told of the sight of hundreds of legs sticking out of the sea. Survival in the ice-cold Baltic Sea was limited in any case. For those struggling below decks it was already too late. Unable to find their way out in the darkness they were drowned in the frozen water now flooding the ship. Less than an hour after being hit by the first torpedo the Wilhelm Gustloff plunged to the bottom taking thousands of lives with her.

A frantic rescue operation was by now underway. The message had gone out for all German shipping in the area to rush to the scene. One of the first ships to arrive was the warship Admiral Hipper and it had the capacity to take on board all the survivors but fearing further torpedo attacks she fled without doing so causing great resentment amongst those still struggling for their lives. Many of those dragged out of the water were already dead, and there were so many nets were used for the purpose. Of the survivors most, it was to transpire, were military personnel. Most of the victims civilians. It would appear that the policy of women and children first did not apply on the Wilhelm Gustloff. Both Captain’s Petersen and Zahn, as did the other two captains aboard, survived. The most recent research suggests that 9,400 people were either drowned or burned to death on the Wilhelm Gustloff, 1,250 were plucked from the sea alive. It was the greatest maritime disaster in history.

It would seem that Captain Marinesko was at first unaware of the scale of his achievement, but just over a week later he confirmed his reputation as the worlds most deadly submariner when he took great risks to torpedo and sink the unmarked hospital ship, Steuben. With more than 5,000 wounded German soldiers on board it sank in short time, taking 3,000 with it.

For his achievements Marinesko expected to be honoured with the title of Hero of the Soviet Union. But his past reputation went before him, and he had made a great many enemies, so instead he was to be awarded with the Order of the Red Banner. Disgusted Marinesko, when his superiors arrived to award him his medal, submerged his submarine so he would be unable to receive it.

Upon the conclusion of the war Marinesko’s life unravelled. By now a hopeless drunk, the alcohol had taken a severe mental and physical toll. In September, 1945, he was demoted and by November of the same year he had been discharged from the Navy altogether. Plunged into poverty his life fell apart. In 1949, he was jailed for 2 years for theft. Broken and forgotten, he finally died on 25 November, 1963, aged just 50, of a burst ulcer.

In May, 1990, he at last received the recognition his many supporters had longed campaigned for, he was awarded the title Hero of the Soviet Union, the very award he so firmly believed his exploits had merited. and statues now stand in his honour in his home town of Odessa and the port city of Kaliningrad.

Many consider what Alexander Marinesko did that freezing January night to be a war crime; but he could not have known that the Gustloff had been primarily a refugee ship. Had he had known would it have made any difference to his decision to launch those torpedoes? I doubt it. Such things are lost in the fog of war, and despite the many civilians on board there were also a great many experienced and specialist military personnel. Alexander Marinesko merely did his duty that night, and he did so bravely, with ingenuity and daring. But it was a moment of extreme horror in an often desperate life.